Spring and summer are here again, and back the Swallows come,
Arriving back from Africa, their winter in the sun.
Around our house they like to nest, their eggs they like to lay,
We do our best to welcome them, we like it when they stay.

Over the years they’ve picked their spot, with some not always good,
We’ve done our best to help them out, we’ve always felt we should.
Removing garage windows, locking doors, to not disturb,
This year they asked for even more, it’s getting quite absurd.

We have some chicks already, above a locked back door,
Quietly waiting to be fed, but always wanting more.
Their parents do not mind us; they know we mean no harm,
They whizz about, collecting food, there’s plenty round the farm.

Above his lathe another nest, at “tail stock end” they sit,
Sat atop his brightest light, around him they both flit.
She sits upon her eggs, and looks down from overhead,
The light now off, door left ajar, and different lights instead.

Inside a shed that’s often locked, what difficult terrain,
So the door, now sports a hole, to fly out and in again.
Accommodating Swallow friends gets harder by the year,
Each challenge can be overcome; these birds need have no fear.

Jane King
(Woodturner's Wife)
July 2013